


The first day

by fromthedeskoftheraven



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, F/M, Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5988405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedeskoftheraven/pseuds/fromthedeskoftheraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 7 in the Mapmaker Series. A human woman joins the company of Thorin Oakenshield on the quest to Erebor as a mapmaker and finds a lifelong love.</p>
<p>The wedding that makes the mapmaker a queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The first day

Many things about the wedding would be non-traditional, not least of all the bride. There was a time when no dwarf would have dreamed of marrying outside his own race, but dwarven women were scarce to begin with, and Smaug’s attack on Erebor and the scattering of the dwarves that ensued had made their numbers even fewer. Intermarriage with other peoples was no longer unheard of, and thus the dwarves were surprised – and perhaps a little scandalized – by Thorin’s intent to take a human woman to wife, but not outraged, as they might once have been.

You and Thorin were both fatherless, so there would be none of the usual delays and helplessness while parents haggled over the details of the marriage contract. Indeed, there wasn’t much call for a marriage contract at all…you had no dowry to offer, and Thorin had no need of riches. In the end, you would promise simply your devotion to one another, and Thorin would be the rare king whose marriage was a love match rather than a political or economic transaction.

And so you stood before a mirror on that day of days, dressed in a simple gown of lustrous ivory silk. While it was conventional for dwarven brides to wear a particular sort of elaborate robe of their own making, Thorin had encouraged you to dress according to your own customs and comfort, for, as he wisely pointed out, you could not be expected to forget your humanity in becoming the wife of a dwarf. Because your talents ran more to the quill than the needle, you had enlisted seamstresses in the newly reborn city of Dale to create your dress, and you were humbled, both by their kindness and by the weeks of painstaking stitching that had gone into your beautiful gown.

A delicate piece of lace, surely of human origin, that had been found beautifully preserved in a cedar chest in the treasure room served as your veil, attached securely to your hair with the jeweled combs Thorin had given you as a betrothal gift. You had also decided to forgo the elaborately braided hairstyles of the dwarves and wear your hair loose, and it lay in soft waves about your shoulders. You smoothed your skirts one last time, satisfied with your reflection. All was ready for the ceremony, and you now waited to be fetched by your escort. 

Someone knocked and simultaneously opened the door, and Fili burst cheerfully into the room, calling, “time to go, everybody’s waiting for the bride–” He saw you and stopped short, his face settling into an appreciative grin. “You look beautiful. Wait ‘til he sees you.” 

You returned his infectious smile with a broad grin of your own. “Thank you, Fili.” 

He nodded, proffering his arm. “Well…let’s get you to your wedding!” You took his arm and the two of you began your journey to the Hall of the Kings.

Your footsteps echoed in long passageways and cavernous stone chambers, and you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through your lips, not escaping Fili’s notice. “Are you afraid?” he asked quietly, and you shook your head. 

“No. Well,” you conceded, “not of getting married, anyway. Of the ceremony, yes. I don’t want to do anything wrong, or make myself foolish.” 

He patted your hand in the crook of his arm. “You won’t. Don’t worry.” He stopped for a moment, looking you in the eyes. “Thorin loves you, and so will everyone else.” 

You squeezed his arm gratefully. “Thank you. And thank you for doing this,” you said, as you resumed walking. “I hope it was not too strange to ask you to walk with me. Since I have no father or family here…and you and Kili are my friends and Thorin’s closest kin…it just seemed fitting.” 

Fili nodded emphatically. “It is fitting. And I am honored to walk with you…my Queen.” At this he winked, his familiar smirk making an appearance, and you couldn’t help but laugh, your nervousness dissipating.

Finally, you reached the entrance to the Hall of the Kings, where your guests were gathered. Kili waited outside the door to join Fili in presenting you to Thorin, bounding forward when he saw you. “Look at you!” he grinned. “You look lovely.” 

“Look at me? Look at you!” you replied, teasingly, “You look so handsome, I hardly recognized you all clean and tidy.” Both of you laughed like naughty children, and you leaned in to whisper to him, “I wish Tauriel could see you.” 

He smiled wistfully and whispered back, “someday.” 

“I believe so,” you nodded encouragingly. 

Fili had stepped inside to have a word with Bombur, who had the task of alerting the assembly to your presence. There was a loud, melodious blast from his horn as Fili returned to your side, asked, “ready?” and you and your two protectors walked into the now-silent hall.

Every eye was on you as you made your way down the aisle, but you only had eyes for Thorin. He looked so handsome in his ornate robes and kingly crown – not the heavy, cumbersome crown of his grandfather that held so many dark associations, but a new one, created for his own reign. You’d met his gaze the moment you walked through the doorway, had seen his face light up with a radiant joy that made his lips tremble with emotion as he smiled at you. As you came closer, you saw the tears streaming down his cheeks, tears that he wore proudly and made no attempt to wipe away. At last you reached his side, and Balin, who would be conducting the marriage rites, raised the hammer that signified that the ceremony had begun.

You had been told how a typical dwarven wedding would proceed, so you felt keenly the absence of Thorin’s and your families, who according to tradition would have stood in a circle around you at this point in the ceremony. You thought of your parents, and Thorin’s, and of his brother, lost in battle so long ago. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement, and you turned your head to see that the other dwarves of the company, along with Thorin’s sister Dis, had risen and gathered with Kili and Fili to form that ring of symbolic protection around the two of you. Your eyes filled with tears as you looked around the small circle, nodding your thanks at them, and Thorin, too, appeared deeply moved by this show of loyalty and love.

Balin stepped into the circle and instructed you and Thorin to face each other and join hands. Being able to hold Thorin’s hands, feeling their warm roughness, the reassuring strokes of his thumb over your knuckles, made you feel strong and confident, and you exchanged elated smiles. 

At Balin’s bidding, Thorin, looking deep into your eyes, began to recite the Seven Dwarven Blessings. Standing in the halls of Thorin’s ancestors, hearing his deep, strong voice solemnly speak the ancient words of blessing, made goosebumps rise on your arms, and you held his intense gaze until he finished the proclamation. 

Thorin had assured you that you would be welcome, even expected, to speak your part in the ceremony in the Common Speech, but you had prepared a surprise for him. You’d spent hours with Balin, learning and practicing the proper pronunciations of the complicated dwarvish tongue, and now he gave you an encouraging nod as you took a deep breath and began, in halting Khuzdul, to repeat the Seven Blessings.

_Blessed are you Mahal who has created everything for the glory of Eru._  
_Blessed are you Mahal who fashioned the earth, the mountains and the hills._  
 _Blessed are you Mahal who fashioned the gems and metals in the heart of the mountain._  
 _Blessed are you Mahal who fashioned the dwarves and the seven houses._  
 _Blessed are you Mahal who taught the dwarves the skill to work the gems and metals in the heart of the mountain._  
 _Blessed are you Mahal who gladdens our Halls through his children._  
 _Blessed are you Mahal who gladdens groom and bride._

Thorin’s eyes widened as you began to speak, and he nodded proudly at you, beaming, when you finished, as murmurs of approval from the congregation of dwarves met your ears.

There remained only to exchange your vows before you would be husband and wife, and Thorin’s expression was tender as he huskily murmured, “in my Halls you will find a house, in your heart I will find a home.” 

Your heart swelled as you clasped his hands and replied, “in your Halls I will find a house, in my heart you will find a home.”

Lastly, Balin presented Thorin with your crown, a delicate circlet of gold set with jewels, made by the most skilled dwarven goldsmiths. You knelt before Thorin and he carefully set the crown on your head, then, taking your hand, raised you up again and presented you to the audience as his wife and queen. Loud cheers went up and a relieved smile broke over your face as Thorin led you out of the hall amidst raucous applause.

The entire assembly moved to the Great Hall, where there was feasting and music such as Erebor hadn’t seen in over two hundred years. You danced until you were footsore, partnering with Thorin, of course, as well as every dwarf in the company and most of Thorin’s relatives from the Iron Hills. Even Bard the Bowman, now King Bard, who had led a small delegation from Dale to attend the wedding, took a turn with you, dancing with a grace that surprised you.

You’d just finished chatting with Thorin’s boisterous cousin Dain, who had wished you well and gone to help himself to more ale, when you felt a strong pair of hands on your hips and Thorin’s arms crept around your waist from behind to hold you. “How do you enjoy your wedding, my lady?” 

“Very much,” you smiled, placing your hands over his, “and you, my lord?” 

“Very much indeed. Although,” his lips brushed your cheek and his voice sank to a low rumble, “I expect I shall find more enjoyment in being alone with my beautiful wife.” 

Your cheeks colored and a girlish giggle escaped your lips as you quickly looked down at the floor to hide your discomposure from observers. You raised his hand to your lips and kissed it before replacing it at your waist, whispering, “soon.” He planted a kiss just behind your ear and gave you a squeeze before releasing you to greet more guests who approached to pay their respects. 

Even as you circulated around the party, talking with old friends and making the acquaintance of new ones, presiding over the festivities like the queen that you now were, you couldn’t help but meet Thorin’s eye and share a secretive smile, both of you well aware that your own private celebration of your marriage was still to come.


End file.
